The Life And Letters Of Charles Darwin Volume I Including An Autobiographical Ch

1: The Life and Letters of Charles Darwin - Volume I (Dodo Press)

The Life and Letters of Charles Darwin: including an Autobiographical Chapter. In Two Volumes. Volume I and II.

Life and Letters of Charles Darwin : Volume I (Illustrated)

The Life and Letters of Charles Darwin Vols. I and II 1888

The Life and Letters of Charles Darwin, Including an Autobiographical Chapter: Volume I (This volume only)

everybody else. Everything is done quite right. I suppose by this timeyou have received my letter written next day, and I hope will send off thethings. My affairs remain in statu quo. Captain Beaufort says I am on thebooks for victuals, and he thinks I shall have no difficulty about mycollections when I come home. But he is too deep a fish for me to make himout. The only thing that now prevents me finally making up my mind, is thewant of certainty about the South Sea Islands; although morally I have nodoubt we should go there whether or no it is put in the instructions.Captain Fitz-Roy says I do good by plaguing Captain Beaufort, it stirs himup with a long pole. Captain Fitz-Roy says he is sure he has interestenough (particularly if this Administration is not everlasting--I shallsoon turn Tory!), anyhow, even when out, to get the ship ordered home bywhatever track he likes. From what Wood says, I presume the Dukes ofGrafton and Richmond interest themselves about him. By the way, Wood hasbeen of the greatest use to me; and I am sure his personal introduction ofme inclined Captain Fitz-Roy to have me.

To explain things from the very beginning: Captain Fitz-Roy first wishedto have a Naturalist, and then he seems to have taken a sudden horror ofthe chances of having somebody he should not like on board the vessel. Heconfesses his letter to Cambridge was to throw cold water on the scheme. Idon't think we shall quarrel about politics, although Wood (as might beexpected from a Londonderry) solemnly warned Fitz-Roy that I was a Whig. Captain Fitz-Roy was before Uncle Jos., he said, "now your friends willtell you a sea-captain is the greatest brute on the face of the creation. I do not know how to help you in this case, except by hoping you will giveme a trial." How one does change! I actually now wish the voyage waslonger before we touch land. I feel my blood run cold at the quantity Ihave to do. Everybody seems ready to assist me. The Zoological want tomake me a corresponding member. All this I can construct without crossingthe Equator. But one friend is quite invaluable, viz., a Mr. Yarrell, astationer, and excellent naturalist. (William Yarrell, well-known for his'History of British Birds' and 'History of British Fishes,' was born in1784. He inherited from his father a newsagent's business, to which hesteadily adhered up to his death, "in his 73rd year." He was a man of athoroughly amiable and honourable character, and was a valued office-bearerof several of the learned Societies.) He goes to the shops with me andbullies about prices (not that I yet buy): hang me if I give 60 pounds forpistols.

Yesterday all the shops were shut, so that I could do nothing; and I waschild enough to give 1 pound 1 shilling for an excellent seat to see theProcession. (The Coronation of William IV.) And it certainly was verywell worth seeing. I was surprised that any quantity of gold could make along row of people quite glitter. It was like only what one sees inpicture-books of Eastern processions. The King looked very well, andseemed popular, but there was very little enthusiasm; so little that I canhardly think there will be a coronation this time fifty years.

The Life Guards pleased me as much as anything--they are quite magnificent;and it is beautiful to see them clear a crowd. You think that they mustkill a score at least, and apparently they really hurt nobody, but mostdeucedly frighten them. Whenever a crowd was so dense that the people wereforced off the causeway, one of these six-feet gentlemen, on a black horse,rode straight at the place, making his horse rear very high, and fall onthe thickest spot. You would suppose men were made of sponge to see themshrink away.

In the evening there was an illumination, and much grander than the one onthe Reform Bill. All the principal streets were crowded just like a race-ground. Carriages generally being six abreast, and I will venture to saynot going one mile an hour. The Duke of Northumberland learnt a lessonlast time, for his house was very grand; much more so than the other greatnobility, and in much better taste; every window in his house was full ofstraight lines of brilliant lights, and from their extreme regularity andnumber had a beautiful effect. The paucity of invention was very striking,crowns, anchors, and "W.R.'s" were repeated in endless succession. Theprettiest were gas-pipes with small holes; they were almost painfullybrilliant. I have written so much about the Coronation, that I think youwill have no occasion to read the "Morning Herald".

For about the first time in my life I find London very pleasant; hurry,bustle, and noise are all in unison with my feelings. And I have plenty todo in spare moments. I work at Astronomy, as I suppose it would astound asailor if one did not know how to find Latitude and Longitude. I am nowgoing to Captain Fitz-Roy, and will keep [this] letter open till eveningfor anything that may occur. I will give you one proof of Fitz-Roy being agood officer--all the officers are the same as before; two-thirds of hiscrew and [the] eight marines who went before all offered to come again, sothe service cannot be so very bad. The Admiralty have just issued ordersfor a large stock of canister-meat and lemon-juice, etc. etc. I have justreturned from spending a long day with Captain Fitz-Roy, driving about inhis gig, and shopping. This letter is too late for to-day's post. You mayconsider it settled that I go. Yet there is room for change if anyuntoward accident should happen; this I can see no reason to expect. Ifeel convinced nothing else will alter my wish of going. I have begun toorder things. I have procured a case of good strong pistols and anexcellent rifle for 50 pounds, there is a saving; a good telescope, withcompass, 5 pounds, and these are nearly the only expensive instruments Ishall want. Captain Fitz-Roy has everything. I never saw so (what Ishould call, he says not) extravagant a man, as regards himself, but aseconomical towards me. How he did order things! His fire-arms will cost400 pounds at least. I found the carpet bag when I arrived all right, andmuch obliged. I do not think I shall take any arsenic; shall sendpartridges to Mr. Yarrell; much obliged. Ask Edward to BARGAIN WITHClemson to make for my gun--TWO SPARE hammers or cocks, two main-springs,two sere-springs, four nipples or plugs--I mean one for each barrel, exceptnipples, of which there must be two for each, all of excellent quality, andset about them immediately; tell Edward to make inquiries about prices. Igo on Sunday per packet to Plymouth, shall stay one or two days, thenreturn, and hope to find a letter from you; a few days in London; thenCambridge, Shrewsbury, London, Plymouth, Madeira, is my route. It is agreat bore my writing so much about the Coronation; I could fill anothersheet. I have just been with Captain King, Fitz-Roy's senior officer lastexpedition; he thinks that the expedition will suit me. Unasked, he saidFitz-Roy's temper was perfect. He sends his own son with him asmidshipman. The key of my microscope was forgotten; it is of noconsequence. Love to all.

I returned from my expedition to see the "Beagle" at Plymouth on Saturday,and found your most welcome letter on my table. It is quite ridiculouswhat a very long period these last twenty days have appeared to me,certainly much more than as many weeks on ordinary occasions; this willaccount for my not recollecting how much I told you of my plans.

...

But on the whole it is a grand and fortunate opportunity; there will be somany things to interest me--fine scenery and an endless occupation andamusement in the different branches of Natural History; then againnavigation and meteorology will amuse me on the voyage, joined to the grandrequisite of there being a pleasant set of officers, and, as far as I canjudge, this is certain. On the other hand there is very considerable riskto one's life and health, and the leaving for so very long a time so manypeople whom I dearly love, is oftentimes a feeling so painful that itrequires all my resolution to overcome it. But everything is now settled,and before the 20th of October I trust to be on the broad sea. Myobjection to the vessel is its smallness, which cramps one so for room forpacking my own body and all my cases, etc., etc. As to its safety, I hopethe Admiralty are the best judges; to a landsman's eye she looks verysmall. She is a ten-gun three-masted brig, but, I believe, an excellentvessel. So much for my future plans, and now for my present. I go to-night by the mail to Cambridge, and from thence, after settling my affairs,proceed to Shrewsbury (most likely on Friday 23rd, or perhaps before);there I shall stay a few days, and be in London by the 1st of October, andstart for Plymouth on the 9th.

And now for the principal part of my letter. I do not know how to tell youhow very kind I feel your offer of coming to see me before I leave England. Indeed I should like it very much; but I must tell you decidedly that Ishall have very little time to spare, and that little time will be almostspoilt by my having so much to think about; and secondly, I can hardlythink it worth your while to leave your parish for such a cause. But Ishall never forget such generous kindness. Now I know you will act just asyou think right; but do not come up for my sake. Any time is the same forme. I think from this letter you will know as much of my plans as I domyself, and will judge accordingly the where and when to write to me. Every now and then I have moments of glorious enthusiasm, when I think ofthe date and cocoa-trees, the palms and ferns so lofty and beautiful,everything new, everything sublime. And if I live to see years in afterlife, how grand must such recollections be! Do you know Humboldt? (If youdon't, do so directly.) With what intense pleasure he appears always tolook back on the days spent in the tropical countries. I hope when younext write to Osmaston, [you will] tell them my scheme, and give them mykindest regards and farewells.

Good-bye, my dear Fox,Yours ever sincerely,CHAS. DARWIN.

CHARLES DARWIN TO R. FITZ-ROY.17 Spring Gardens [October 17? 1831].

Dear Fitz-Roy,

Very many thanks for your letter; it has made me most comfortable, for itwould have been heart-breaking to have left anything quite behind, and Inever should have thought of sending things by some other vessel. Thisletter will, I trust, accompany some talc. I read your letter withoutattending to the name. But I have now procured some from Jones, whichappears very good, and I will send it this evening by the mail. You willbe surprised at not seeing me propria persona instead of my handwriting. But I had just found out that the large steam-packet did not intend to sailon Sunday, and I was picturing to myself a small, dirty cabin, with theproportion of 39-40ths of the passengers very sick, when Mr. Earl came inand told me the "Beagle" would not sail till the beginning of November. This, of course, settled the point; so that I remain in London one weekmore. I shall then send heavy goods by steamer and start myself by thecoach on Sunday evening.

Have you a good set of mountain barometers? Several great guns in thescientific world have told me some points in geology to ascertain whichentirely depend on their relative height. If you have not a good stock, Iwill add one more to the list. I ought to be ashamed to trouble you somuch, but will you SEND ONE LINE to inform me? I am daily becoming moreanxious to be off, and, if I am so, you must be in a perfect fever. What aglorious day the 4th of November will be to me! My second life will thencommence, and it shall be as a birthday for the rest of my life.

Believe me, dear Fitz-Roy,Yours most sincerely,CHAS. DARWIN.

MONDAY.--I hope I have not put you to much inconvenience by ordering theroom in readiness.

CHARLES DARWIN TO J.S. HENSLOW.Devonport, November 15, 1831.

My dear Henslow,

The orders are come down from the Admiralty, and everything is finallysettled. We positively sail the last day of this month, and I think beforethat time the vessel will be ready. She looks most beautiful, even alandsman must admire her. WE all think her the most perfect vessel everturned out of the Dockyard. One thing is certain, no vessel has beenfitted out so expensively, and with so much care. Everything that can bemade so is of mahogany, and nothing can exceed the neatness and beauty ofall the accommodations. The instructions are very general, and leave agreat deal to the Captain's discretion and judgment, paying a substantialas well as a verbal compliment to him.

...

No vessel ever left England with such a set of Chronometers, viz., twenty-four, all very good ones. In short, everything is well, and I have onlynow to pray for the sickness to moderate its fierceness, and I shall dovery well. Yet I should not call it one of the very best opportunities fornatural history that has ever occurred. The absolute want of room is anevil that nothing can surmount. I think L. Jenyns did very wisely in notcoming, that is judging from my own feelings, for I am sure if I had leftcollege some few years, or been those years older, I NEVER could haveendured it. The officers (excepting the Captain) are like the freshestfreshmen, that is in their manners, in everything else widely different. Remember me most kindly to him, and tell him if ever he dreams in the nightof palm-trees, he may in the morning comfort himself with the assurancethat the voyage would not have suited him.

I am much obliged for your advice, de Mathematicis. I suspect when I amstruggling with a triangle, I shall often wish myself in your room, and asfor those wicked sulky surds, I do not know what I shall do without you toconjure them. My time passes away very pleasantly. I know one or twopleasant people, foremost of whom is Mr. Thunder-and-lightning Harris(William Snow Harris, the Electrician.), whom I dare say you have heard of. My chief employment is to go on board the "Beagle", and try to look as muchlike a sailor as I can. I have no evidence of having taken in man, womanor child.

I am going to ask you to do one more commission, and I trust it will be thelast. When I was in Cambridge, I wrote to Mr. Ash, asking him to send myCollege account to my father, after having subtracted about 30 pounds formy furniture. This he has forgotten to do, and my father has paid thebill, and I want to have the furniture-money transmitted to my father. Perhaps you would be kind enough to speak to Mr. Ash. I have cost myfather so much money, I am quite ashamed of myself.

I will write once again before sailing, and perhaps you will write to mebefore then.

Remember me to Professor Sedgwick and Mr. Peacock.

Believe me, yours affectionately,CHAS. DARWIN.

CHARLES DARWIN TO J.S. HENSLOW.Devonport, December 3, 1831.

My dear Henslow,

It is now late in the evening, and to-night I am going to sleep on board. On Monday we most certainly sail, so you may guess what a desperate stateof confusion we are all in. If you were to hear the various exclamationsof the officers, you would suppose we had scarcely had a week's notice. Iam just in the same way taken all ABACK, and in such a bustle I hardly knowwhat to do. The number of things to be done is infinite. I look forwardeven to sea-sickness with something like satisfaction, anything must bebetter than this state of anxiety. I am very much obliged for your lastkind and affectionate letter. I always like advice from you, and no onewhom I have the luck to know is more capable of giving it than yourself. Recollect, when you write, that I am a sort of protege of yours, and thatit is your bounden duty to lecture me.

I will now give you my direction; it is at first, Rio; but if you will sendme a letter on the first Tuesday (when the packet sails) in February,directed to Monte Video, it will give me very great pleasure; I shall somuch enjoy hearing a little Cambridge news. Poor dear old Alma Mater! Iam a very worthy son in as far as affection goes. I have little more towrite about...I cannot end this without telling you how cordially I feelgrateful for the kindness you have shown me during my Cambridge life. Muchof the pleasure and utility which I may have derived from it is owing toyou. I long for the time when we shall again meet, and till then believeme, my dear Henslow,

Your affectionate and obliged friend,CH. DARWIN.

Remember me most kindly to those who take any interest in me.

CHAPTER 1.VI.

THE VOYAGE.

"There is a natural good-humoured energy in his letters just likehimself."--From a letter of Dr. R.W. Darwin's to Prof. Henslow.

[The object of the "Beagle" voyage is briefly described in my father's'Journal of Researches,' page 1, as being "to complete the Survey ofPatagonia and Tierra del Fuego, commenced under Captain King in 1826 to1830; to survey the shores of Chile, Peru, and some island in the Pacific;and to carry a chain of chronometrical measurements round the world."

The "Beagle" is described as a well-built little vessel, of 235 tons,rigged as a barque, and carrying six guns. She belonged to the old classof ten-gun brigs, which were nicknamed "coffins," from their liability togo down in severe weather. They were very "deep-waisted," that is, theirbulwarks were high in proportion to their size, so that a heavy seabreaking over them might be highly dangerous. Nevertheless, she livedthrough the five years' work, in the most stormy regions in the world,under Commanders Stokes and Fitz-Roy, without a serious accident. When re-commissioned in 1831 for her second voyage, she was found (as I learn fromAdmiral Sir James Sulivan) to be so rotten that she had practically to berebuilt, and it was this that caused the long delay in refitting. Theupper deck was raised, making her much safer in heavy weather, and givingher far more comfortable accommodation below. By these alterations and bythe strong sheathing added to her bottom she was brought up to 242 tonsburthen. It is a proof of the splendid seamanship of Captain Fitz-Roy andhis officers that she returned without having carried away a spar, and thatin only one of the heavy storms that she encountered was she in greatdanger.

She was fitted out for the expedition with all possible care, beingsupplied with carefully chosen spars and ropes, six boats, and a "dinghy;"lightning conductors, "invented by Mr. Harris, were fixed in all the masts,the bowsprits, and even in the flying jib-boom." To quote my father'sdescription, written from Devonport, November 17, 1831: "Everybody, whocan judge, says it is one of the grandest voyages that has almost ever beensent out. Everything is on a grand scale. Twenty-four chronometers. Thewhole ship is fitted up with mahogany; she is the admiration of the wholeplace. In short, everything is as prosperous as human means can make it."

Owing to the smallness of the vessel, every one on board was cramped forroom, and my father's accommodation seems to have been small enough: "Ihave just room to turn round," he writes to Henslow, "and that is all." Admiral Sir James Sulivan writes to me: "The narrow space at the end ofthe chart-table was his only accommodation for working, dressing, andsleeping; the hammock being left hanging over his head by day, when the seawas at all rough, that he might lie on it with a book in his hand when hecould not any longer sit at the table. His only stowage for clothes beingseveral small drawers in the corner, reaching from deck to deck; the topone being taken out when the hammock was hung up, without which there wasnot length for it, so then the foot-clews took the place of the top drawer. For specimens he had a very small cabin under the forecastle."

Yet of this narrow room he wrote enthusiastically, September 17, 1831:--"When I wrote last I was in great alarm about my cabin. The cabins werenot then marked out, but when I left they were, and mine is a capital one,certainly next best to the Captain's and remarkably light. My companionmost luckily, I think, will turn out to be the officer whom I shall likebest. Captain Fitz-Roy says he will take care that one corner is so fittedup that I shall be comfortable in it and shall consider it my home, butthat also I shall have the run of his. My cabin is the drawing one; and inthe middle is a large table, on which we two sleep in hammocks. But forthe first two months there will be no drawing to be done, so that it willbe quite a luxurious room, and good deal larger than the Captain's cabin."

My father used to say that it was the absolute necessity of tidiness in thecramped space of the "Beagle" that helped 'to give him his methodicalhabits of working.' On the "Beagle", too, he would say, that he learnedwhat he considered the golden rule for saving time; i.e., taking care ofthe minutes.

Sir James Sulivan tells me that the chief fault in the outfit of theexpedition was the want of a second smaller vessel to act as tender. Thiswant was so much felt by Captain Fitz-Roy that he hired two decked boats tosurvey the coast of Patagonia, at a cost of 1100 pounds, a sum which he hadto supply, although the boats saved several thousand pounds to the country. He afterwards bought a schooner to act as a tender, thus saving the countrya further large amount. He was ultimately ordered to sell the schooner,and was compelled to bear the loss himself, and it was only after his deaththat some inadequate compensation was made for all the losses which hesuffered through his zeal.

For want of a proper tender, much of the work had to be done in small openwhale boats, which were sent away from the ship for weeks together, andthis in a climate, where the crews were exposed to severe hardships fromthe almost constant rains, which sometimes continued for weeks together. The completeness of the equipment was also in other respects largely due tothe public spirit of Captain Fitz-Roy. He provided at his own cost anartist, and a skilled instrument-maker to look after the chronometers. (Either one or both were on the books for victuals.) Captain Fitz-Roy'swish was to take "some well-educated and scientific person" as his privateguest, but this generous offer was only accepted by my father on conditionof being allowed to pay a fair share of the expense of the Captain's table;he was, moreover, on the ship's books for victuals.

In a letter to his sister (July 1832) he writes contentedly of his mannerof life at sea:--"I do not think I have ever given you an account of howthe day passes. We breakfast at eight o'clock. The invariable maxim is tothrow away all politeness--that is, never to wait for each other, and boltoff the minute one has done eating, etc. At sea, when the weather is calm,I work at marine animals, with which the whole ocean abounds. If there isany sea up I am either sick or contrive to read some voyage or travels. Atone we dine. You shore-going people are lamentably mistaken about themanner of living on board. We have never yet (nor shall we) dined off saltmeat. Rice and peas and calavanses are excellent vegetables, and, withgood bread, who could want more? Judge Alderson could not be moretemperate, as nothing but water comes on the table. At five we have tea. The midshipmen's berth have all their meals an hour before us, and the gun-room an hour afterwards."

The crew of the "Beagle" consisted of Captain Fitz-Roy, "Commander andSurveyor," two lieutenants, one of whom (the first lieutenant) was the lateCaptain Wickham, Governor of Queensland; the present Admiral Sir JamesSulivan, K.C.B., was the second lieutenant. Besides the master and twomates, there was an assistant-surveyor, the present Admiral Lort Stokes. There were also a surgeon, assistant-surgeon, two midshipmen, master'smate, a volunteer (1st class), purser, carpenter, clerk, boatswain, eightmarines, thirty-four seamen, and six boys.

There are not now (1882) many survivors of my father's old ship-mates. Admiral Mellersh, Mr. Hammond, and Mr. Philip King, of the LegislativeCouncil of Sydney, and Mr. Usborne, are among the number. Admiral Johnsondied almost at the same time as my father.

He retained to the last a most pleasant recollection of the voyage of the"Beagle", and of the friends he made on board her. To his children theirnames were familiar, from his many stories of the voyage, and we caught hisfeeling of friendship for many who were to us nothing more than names.

It is pleasant to know how affectionately his old companions rememberedhim.

Sir James Sulivan remained, throughout my father's lifetime, one of hisbest and truest friends. He writes:--"I can confidently express my beliefthat during the five years in the "Beagle", he was never known to be out oftemper, or to say one unkind or hasty word OF or TO any one. You willtherefore readily understand how this, combined with the admiration of hisenergy and ability, led to our giving him the name of 'the dear oldPhilosopher.'" (His other nickname was "The Flycatcher." I have heard myfather tell how he overheard the boatswain of the "Beagle" showing anotherboatswain over the ship, and pointing out the officers: "That's our firstlieutenant; that's our doctor; that's our flycatcher.") Admiral Mellershwrites to me:--"Your father is as vividly in my mind's eye as if it wasonly a week ago that I was in the "Beagle" with him; his genial smile andconversation can never be forgotten by any who saw them and heard them. Iwas sent on two or three occasions away in a boat with him on some of hisscientific excursions, and always looked forward to these trips with greatpleasure, an anticipation that, unlike many others, was always realised. Ithink he was the only man I ever knew against whom I never heard a wordsaid; and as people when shut up in a ship for five years are apt to getcross with each other, that is saying a good deal. Certainly we werealways so hard at work, we had no time to quarrel, but if we had done so, Ifeel sure your father would have tried (and have been successful) to throwoil on the troubled waters."

Admiral Stokes, Mr. King, Mr. Usborne, and Mr. Hamond, all speak of theirfriendship with him in the same warm-hearted way.

Of the life on board and on shore his letters give some idea. CaptainFitz-Roy was a strict officer, and made himself thoroughly respected bothby officers and men. The occasional severity of his manner was borne withbecause every one on board knew that his first thought was his duty, andthat he would sacrifice anything to the real welfare of the ship. Myfather writes, July 1834, "We all jog on very well together, there is noquarrelling on board, which is something to say. The Captain keeps allsmooth by rowing every one in turn." The best proof that Fitz-Roy wasvalued as a commander is given by the fact that many ('Voyage of the"Adventure" and "Beagle",' vol. ii. page 21.) of the crew had sailed withhim in the "Beagle's" former voyage, and there were a few officers as wellas seamen and marines, who had served in the "Adventure" or "Beagle" duringthe whole of that expedition.

My father speaks of the officers as a fine determined set of men, andespecially of Wickham, the first lieutenant, as a "glorious fellow." Thelatter being responsible for the smartness and appearance of the shipstrongly objected to his littering the decks, and spoke of specimens as"d--d beastly devilment," and used to add, "If I were skipper, I would soonhave you and all your d--d mess out of the place."

A sort of halo of sanctity was given to my father by the fact of his diningin the Captain's cabin, so that the midshipmen used at first to call him"Sir," a formality, however, which did not prevent his becoming fastfriends with the younger officers. He wrote about the year 1861 or 1862 toMr. P.G. King, M.L.C., Sydney, who, as before stated, was a midshipman onboard the "Beagle":--"The remembrance of old days, when we used to sit andtalk on the booms of the "Beagle", will always, to the day of my death,make me glad to hear of your happiness and prosperity." Mr. King describesthe pleasure my father seemed to take "in pointing out to me as a youngsterthe delights of the tropical nights, with their balmy breezes eddying outof the sails above us, and the sea lighted up by the passage of the shipthrough the never-ending streams of phosphorescent animalculae."

It has been assumed that his ill-health in later years was due to hishaving suffered so much from sea-sickness. This he did not himselfbelieve, but rather ascribed his bad health to the hereditary fault whichcame out as gout in some of the past generations. I am not quite clear asto how much he actually suffered from sea-sickness; my impression isdistinct that, according to his own memory, he was not actually ill afterthe first three weeks, but constantly uncomfortable when the vessel pitchedat all heavily. But, judging from his letters, and from the evidence ofsome of the officers, it would seem that in later years he forgot theextent of the discomfort from which he suffered. Writing June 3, 1836,from the Cape of Good Hope, he says: "It is a lucky thing for me that thevoyage is drawing to its close, for I positively suffer more from sea-sickness now than three years ago." Admiral Lort Stokes wrote to the"Times", April 25, 1883:--

"May I beg a corner for my feeble testimony to the marvellous perseveringendurance in the cause of science of that great naturalist, my old and lostfriend, Mr. Charles Darwin, whose remains are so very justly to be honouredwith a resting-place in Westminster Abbey?

"Perhaps no one can better testify to his early and most trying laboursthan myself. We worked together for several years at the same table in thepoop cabin of the 'Beagle' during her celebrated voyage, he with hismicroscope and myself at the charts. It was often a very lively end of thelittle craft, and distressingly so to my old friend, who suffered greatlyfrom sea-sickness. After perhaps an hour's work he would say to me, 'Oldfellow, I must take the horizontal for it,' that being the best reliefposition from ship motion; a stretch out on one side of the table for sometime would enable him to resume his labours for a while, when he had againto lie down.

"It was distressing to witness this early sacrifice of Mr. Darwin's health,who ever afterwards seriously felt the ill-effects of the 'Beagle's'voyage."

Mr. A.B. Usborne writes, "He was a dreadful sufferer from sea-sickness, andat times, when I have been officer of the watch, and reduced the sails,making the ship more easy, and thus relieving him, I have been pronouncedby him to be 'a good officer,' and he would resume his microscopicobservations in the poop cabin." The amount of work that he got through onthe "Beagle" shows that he was habitually in full vigour; he had, however,one severe illness, in South America, when he was received into the houseof an Englishman, Mr. Corfield, who tended him with careful kindness. Ihave heard him say that in this illness every secretion of the body wasaffected, and that when he described the symptoms to his father Dr. Darwincould make no guess as to the nature of the disease. My father wassometimes inclined to think that the breaking up of his health was to someextent due to this attack.

The "Beagle" letters give ample proof of his strong love of home, and allconnected with it, from his father down to Nancy, his old nurse, to whom hesometimes sends his love.

His delight in home-letters is shown in such passages as:--"But if you knewthe glowing, unspeakable delight, which I felt at being certain that myfather and all of you were well, only four months ago, you would not grudgethe labour lost in keeping up the regular series of letters."

Or again--his longing to return in words like these:--"It is too delightfulto think that I shall see the leaves fall and hear the robin sing nextautumn at Shrewsbury. My feelings are those of a schoolboy to the smallestpoint; I doubt whether ever boy longed for his holidays as much as I do tosee you all again. I am at present, although nearly half the world isbetween me and home, beginning to arrange what I shall do, where I shall goduring the first week."

Another feature in his letters is the surprise and delight with which hehears of his collections and observations being of some use. It seems onlyto have gradually occurred to him that he would ever be more than collectorof specimens and facts, of which the great men were to make use. And evenas to the value of his collections he seems to have had much doubt, for hewrote to Henslow in 1834:--"I really began to think that my collectionswere so poor that you were puzzled what to say; the case is now quite onthe opposite tack, for you are guilty of exciting all my vain feelings to amost comfortable pitch; if hard work will atone for these thoughts, I vowit shall not be spared."

After his return and settlement in London, he began to realise the value ofwhat he had done, and wrote to Captain Fitz-Roy--"However others may lookback to the 'Beagle's' voyage, now that the small disagreeable parts arewell-nigh forgotten, I think it far the MOST FORTUNATE CIRCUMSTANCE IN MYLIFE that the chance afforded by your offer of taking a Naturalist fell onme. I often have the most vivid and delightful pictures of what I saw onboard the 'Beagle' pass before my eyes. These recollections, and what Ilearnt on Natural History, I would not exchange for twice ten thousand ayear."

In selecting the following series of letters, I have been guided by thewish to give as much personal detail as possible. I have given only a fewscientific letters, to illustrate the way in which he worked, and how heregarded his own results. In his 'Journal of Researches' he givesincidentally some idea of his personal character; the letters given in thepresent chapter serve to amplify in fresher and more spontaneous words thatimpression of his personality which the 'Journal' has given to so manyreaders.]

I am writing this on the 8th of February, one day's sail past St. Jago(Cape de Verd), and intend taking the chance of meeting with a homeward-bound vessel somewhere about the equator. The date, however, will tellthis whenever the opportunity occurs. I will now begin from the day ofleaving England, and give a short account of our progress. We sailed, asyou know, on the 27th of December, and have been fortunate enough to havehad from that time to the present a fair and moderate breeze. Itafterwards proved that we had escaped a heavy gale in the Channel, anotherat Madeira, and another on [the] Coast of Africa. But in escaping thegale, we felt its consequences--a heavy sea. In the Bay of Biscay therewas a long and continuous swell, and the misery I endured from sea-sicknessis far beyond what I ever guessed at. I believe you are curious about it. I will give you all my dear-bought experience. Nobody who has only been tosea for twenty-four hours has a right to say that sea-sickness is evenuncomfortable. The real misery only begins when you are so exhausted thata little exertion makes a feeling of faintness come on. I found nothingbut lying in my hammock did me any good. I must especially except yourreceipt of raisins, which is the only food that the stomach will bear.

On the 4th of January we were not many miles from Madeira, but as there wasa heavy sea running, and the island lay to windward, it was not thoughtworth while to beat up to it. It afterwards has turned out it was lucky wesaved ourselves the trouble. I was much too sick even to get up to see thedistant outline. On the 6th, in the evening, we sailed into the harbour ofSanta Cruz. I now first felt even moderately well, and I was picturing tomyself all the delights of fresh fruits growing in beautiful valleys, andreading Humboldt's descriptions of the island's glorious views, whenperhaps you may nearly guess at our disappointment, when a small pale maninformed us we must perform a strict quarantine of twelve days. There wasa death-like stillness in the ship till the Captain cried "up jib," and weleft this long-wished for place.

We were becalmed for a day between Teneriffe and the Grand Canary, and hereI first experienced any enjoyment. The view was glorious. The Peak ofTeneriffe was seen amongst the clouds like another world. Our onlydrawback was the extreme wish of visiting this glorious island. TELL EYTONNEVER TO FORGET EITHER THE CANARY ISLANDS OR SOUTH AMERICA; that I am sureit will well repay the necessary trouble, but that he must make up his mindto find a good deal of the latter. I feel certain he will regret it if hedoes not make the attempt. From Teneriffe to St. Jago the voyage wasextremely pleasant. I had a net astern the vessel which caught greatnumbers of curious animals, and fully occupied my time in my cabin, and ondeck the weather was so delightful and clear, that the sky and watertogether made a picture. On the 16th we arrived at Port Praya, the capitalof the Cape de Verds, and there we remained twenty-three days, viz., tillyesterday, the 7th of February. The time has flown away most delightfully,indeed nothing can be pleasanter; exceedingly busy, and that business botha duty and a great delight. I do not believe I have spent one half-houridly since leaving Teneriffe. St. Jago has afforded me an exceedingly richharvest in several branches of Natural History. I find the descriptionsscarcely worth anything of many of the commoner animals that inhabit theTropics. I allude, of course, to those of the lower classes.

Geologising in a volcanic country is most delightful; besides the interestattached to itself, it leads you into most beautiful and retired spots. Nobody but a person fond of Natural History can imagine the pleasure ofstrolling under cocoa-nuts in a thicket of bananas and coffee-plants, andan endless number of wild flowers. And this island, that has given me somuch instruction and delight, is reckoned the most uninteresting place thatwe perhaps shall touch at during our voyage. It certainly is generallyvery barren, but the valleys are more exquisitely beautiful, from the verycontrast. It is utterly useless to say anything about the scenery; itwould be as profitable to explain to a blind man colours, as to a personwho has not been out of Europe, the total dissimilarity of a tropical view. Whenever I enjoy anything, I always either look forward to writing it down,either in my log-book (which increases in bulk), or in a letter; so youmust excuse raptures, and those raptures badly expressed. I find mycollections are increasing wonderfully, and from Rio I think I shall beobliged to send a cargo home.

All the endless delays which we experienced at Plymouth have been mostfortunate, as I verily believe no person ever went out better provided forcollecting and observing in the different branches of Natural History. Ina multitude of counsellors I certainly found good. I find to my greatsurprise that a ship is singularly comfortable for all sorts of work. Everything is so close at hand, and being cramped makes one so methodical,that in the end I have been a gainer. I already have got to look at goingto sea as a regular quiet place, like going back to home after staying awayfrom it. In short, I find a ship a very comfortable house, with everythingyou want, and if it was not for sea-sickness the whole world would besailors. I do not think there is much danger of Erasmus setting theexample, but in case there should be, he may rely upon it he does not knowone-tenth of the sufferings of sea-sickness.

I like the officers much more than I did at first, especially Wickham, andyoung King and Stokes, and indeed all of them. The Captain continuessteadily very kind, and does everything in his power to assist me. We seevery little of each other when in harbour, our pursuits lead us in suchdifferent tracks. I never in my life met with a man who could endurenearly so great a share of fatigue. He works incessantly, and whenapparently not employed, he is thinking. If he does not kill himself, hewill during this voyage do a wonderful quantity of work. I find I am verywell, and stand the little heat we have had as yet as well as anybody. Weshall soon have it in real earnest. We are now sailing for FernandoNoronha, off the coast of Brazil, where we shall not stay very long, andthen examine the shoals between there and Rio, touching perhaps at Bahia. I will finish this letter when an opportunity of sending it occurs.

FEBRUARY 26TH.

About 280 miles from Bahia. On the 10th we spoke the packet "Lyra", on hervoyage to Rio. I sent a short letter by her, to be sent to England on[the] first opportunity. We have been singularly unlucky in not meetingwith any homeward-bound vessels, but I suppose [at] Bahia we certainlyshall be able to write to England. Since writing the first part of [this]letter nothing has occurred except crossing the Equator, and being shaved. This most disagreeable operation consists in having your face rubbed withpaint and tar, which forms a lather for a saw which represents the razor,and then being half drowned in a sail filled with salt water. About 50miles north of the line we touched at the rocks of St. Paul; this littlespeck (about 1/4 of a mile across) in the Atlantic has seldom been visited. It is totally barren, but is covered by hosts of birds; they were so unusedto men that we found we could kill plenty with stones and sticks. Afterremaining some hours on the island, we returned on board with the boatloaded with our prey. From this we went to Fernando Noronha, a smallisland where the [Brazilians] send their exiles. The landing there wasattended with so much difficulty owing [to] a heavy surf that the Captaindetermined to sail the next day after arriving. My one day on shore wasexceedingly interesting, the whole island is one single wood so mattedtogether by creepers that it is very difficult to move out of the beatenpath. I find the Natural History of all these unfrequented spots mostexceedingly interesting, especially the geology. I have written this muchin order to save time at Bahia.

Decidedly the most striking thing in the Tropics is the novelty of thevegetable forms. Cocoa-nuts could well be imagined from drawings, if youadd to them a graceful lightness which no European tree partakes of. Bananas and plantains are exactly the same as those in hothouses, theacacias or tamarinds are striking from the blueness of their foliage; butof the glorious orange trees, no description, no drawings, will give anyjust idea; instead of the sickly green of our oranges, the native onesexceed the Portugal laurel in the darkness of their tint, and infinitelyexceed it in beauty of form. Cocoa-nuts, papaws, the light green bananas,and oranges, loaded with fruit, generally surround the more luxuriantvillages. Whilst viewing such scenes, one feels the impossibility that anydescription would come near the mark, much less be overdrawn.

MARCH 1ST.

Bahia, or San Salvador. I arrived at this place on the 28th of February,and am now writing this letter after having in real earnest strolled in theforests of the new world. No person could imagine anything so beautiful asthe ancient town of Bahia, it is fairly embosomed in a luxuriant wood ofbeautiful trees, and situated on a steep bank, and overlooks the calmwaters of the great bay of All Saints. The houses are white and lofty,and, from the windows being narrow and long, have a very light and elegantappearance. Convents, porticos, and public buildings, vary the uniformityof the houses; the bay is scattered over with large ships; in short, andwhat can be said more, it is one of the finest views in the Brazils. Butthe exquisite glorious pleasure of walking amongst such flowers, and suchtrees, cannot be comprehended but by those who have experienced it. Although in so low a latitude the locality is not disagreeably hot, but atpresent it is very damp, for it is the rainy season. I find the climate asyet agrees admirably with me; it makes me long to live quietly for sometime in such a country. If you really want to have [an idea] of tropicalcountries, study Humboldt. Skip the scientific parts, and commence afterleaving Teneriffe. My feelings amount to admiration the more I read him. Tell Eyton (I find I am writing to my sisters!) how exceedingly I enjoyAmerica, and that I am sure it will be a great pity if he does not make astart.

This letter will go on the 5th, and I am afraid will be some time before itreaches you; it must be a warning how in other parts of the world you maybe a long time without hearing. A year might by accident thus pass. Aboutthe 12th we start for Rio, but we remain some time on the way in soundingthe Albrolhos shoals. Tell Eyton as far as my experience goes let himstudy Spanish, French, drawing, and Humboldt. I do sincerely hope to hearof (if not to see him) in South America. I look forward to the letters inRio--till each one is acknowledged, mention its date in the next.

We have beat all the ships in manoeuvring, so much so that the commandingofficer says, we need not follow his example; because we do everythingbetter than his great ship. I begin to take great interest in navalpoints, more especially now, as I find they all say we are the No. 1 inSouth America. I suppose the Captain is a most excellent officer. It wasquite glorious to-day how we beat the "Samarang" in furling sails. It isquite a new thing for a "sounding ship" to beat a regular man-of-war; andyet the "Beagle" is not at all a particular ship. Erasmus will clearlyperceive it when he hears that in the night I have actually sat down in thesacred precincts of the quarter deck. You must excuse these queer letters,and recollect they are generally written in the evening after my day'swork. I take more pains over my log-book, so that eventually you will havea good account of all the places I visit. Hitherto the voyage has answeredADMIRABLY to me, and yet I am now more fully aware of your wisdom inthrowing cold water on the whole scheme; the chances are so numerous ofturning out quite the reverse; to such an extent do I feel this, that if myadvice was asked by any person on a similar occasion, I should be verycautious in encouraging him. I have not time to write to anybody else, sosend to Maer to let them know, that in the midst of the glorious tropicalscenery, I do not forget how instrumental they were in placing me there. Iwill not rapturise again, but I give myself great credit in not being crazyout of pure delight.

Give my love to every soul at home, and to the Owens.

I think one's affections, like other good things, flourish and increase inthese tropical regions.

The conviction that I am walking in the New World is even yet marvellous inmy own eyes, and I dare say it is little less so to you, the receiving aletter from a son of yours in such a quarter.

I have delayed writing to you and all my other friends till I arrived hereand had some little spare time. My mind has been, since leaving England,in a perfect HURRICANE of delight and astonishment, and to this hourscarcely a minute has passed in idleness...

At St. Jago my natural history and most delightful labours commenced. During the three weeks I collected a host of marine animals, and enjoyedmany a good geological walk. Touching at some islands, we sailed to Bahia,and from thence to Rio, where I have already been some weeks. Mycollections go on admirably in almost every branch. As for insects, Itrust I shall send a host of undescribed species to England. I believethey have no small ones in the collections, and here this morning I havetaken minute Hydropori, Noterus, Colymbetes, Hydrophilus, Hydrobius,Gromius, etc., etc., as specimens of fresh-water beetles. I am entirelyoccupied with land animals, as the beach is only sand. Spiders and theadjoining tribes have perhaps given me, from their novelty, the mostpleasure. I think I have already taken several new genera.

But Geology carries the day: it is like the pleasure of gambling. Speculating, on first arriving, what the rocks may be, I often mentally cryout 3 to 1 tertiary against primitive; but the latter have hitherto won allthe bets. So much for the grand end of my voyage; in other respects thingsare equally flourishing. My life, when at sea, is so quiet, that to aperson who can employ himself, nothing can be pleasanter; the beauty of thesky and brilliancy of the ocean together make a picture. But when onshore, and wandering in the sublime forests, surrounded by views moregorgeous than even Claude ever imagined, I enjoy a delight which none butthose who have experienced it can understand. If it is to be done, it mustbe by studying Humboldt. At our ancient snug breakfasts, at Cambridge, Ilittle thought that the wide Atlantic would ever separate us; but it is arare privilege that with the body, the feelings and memory are not divided. On the contrary, the pleasantest scenes in my life, many of which have beenin Cambridge, rise from the contrast of the present, the more vividly in myimagination. Do you think any diamond beetle will ever give me so muchpleasure as our old friend crux major?...It is one of my most constantamusements to draw pictures of the past; and in them I often see you andpoor little Fran. Oh, Lord, and then old Dash, poor thing! Do yourecollect how you all tormented me about his beautiful tail?

...Think when you are picking insects off a hawthorn-hedge on a fine Mayday (wretchedly cold, I have no doubt), think of me collecting amongstpine-apples and orange-trees; whilst staining your fingers with dirtyblackberries, think and be envious of ripe oranges. This is a proper pieceof bravado, for I would walk through many a mile of sleet, snow, or rain toshake you by the hand. My dear old Fox, God bless you. Believe me,

Yours affectionately,CHAS. DARWIN.

CHARLES DARWIN TO J.S. HENSLOW.Rio de Janeiro, May 18, 1832.

My dear Henslow,

...

Till arriving at Teneriffe (we did not touch at Madeira) I was scarcely outof my hammock, and really suffered more than you can well imagine from sucha cause. At Santa Cruz, whilst looking amongst the clouds for the Peak,and repeating to myself Humboldt's sublime descriptions, it was announcedwe must perform twelve days' strict quarantine. We had made a shortpassage, so "Up jib," and away for St. Jago. You will say all this soundsvery bad, and so it was; but from that to the present time it has beennearly one scene of continual enjoyment. A net over the stern kept me atfull work till we arrived at St. Jago. Here we spent three most delightfulweeks. The geology was pre-eminently interesting, and I believe quite new;there are some facts on a large scale of upraised coast (which is anexcellent epoch for all the volcanic rocks to date from), that wouldinterest Mr. Lyell.

One great source of perplexity to me is an utter ignorance whether I notethe right facts, and whether they are of sufficient importance to interestothers. In the one thing collecting I cannot go wrong. St. Jago issingularly barren, and produces few plants or insects, so that my hammerwas my usual companion, and in its company most delightful hours I spent. On the coast I collected many marine animals, chiefly gasteropodous (Ithink some new). I examined pretty accurately a Caryopyllia, and, if myeyes are not bewitched, former descriptions have not the slightestresemblance to the animal. I took several specimens of an Octopus whichpossessed a most marvellous power of changing its colours, equalling anychameleon, and evidently accommodating the changes to the colour of theground which it passed over. Yellowish green, dark brown, and red, werethe prevailing colours; this fact appears to be new, as far as I can findout. Geology and the invertebrate animals will be my chief object ofpursuit through the whole voyage.

We then sailed for Bahia, and touched at the rock of St. Paul. This is aserpentine formation. Is it not the only island in the Atlantic which isnot volcanic? We likewise stayed a few hours at Fernando Noronha; atremendous surf was running so that a boat was swamped, and the Captainwould not wait. I find my life on board when we are on blue water mostdelightful, so very comfortable and quiet--it is almost impossible to beidle, and that for me is saying a good deal. Nobody could possibly bebetter fitted in every respect for collecting than I am; many cooks havenot spoiled the broth this time. Mr. Brown's little hints aboutmicroscopes, etc., have been invaluable. I am well off in books, the'Dictionnaire Classique' IS MOST USEFUL. If you should think of any thingor book that would be useful to me, if you would write one line, E. Darwin,Wyndham Club, St. James's Street, he will procure them, and send them withsome other things to Monte Video, which for the next year will be myheadquarters.

Touching at the Abrolhos, we arrived here on April 4th, when amongst othersI received your most kind letter. You may rely on it during the evening Ithought of the many most happy hours I have spent with you in Cambridge. Iam now living at Botofogo, a village about a league from the city, andshall be able to remain a month longer. The "Beagle" has gone back toBahia, and will pick me up on its return. There is a most important errorin the longitude of South America, to settle which this second trip hasbeen undertaken. Our chronometers, at least sixteen of them, are goingsuperbly; none on record have ever gone at all like them.

A few days after arriving I started on an expedition of 150 miles to RioMacao, which lasted eighteen days. Here I first saw a tropical forest inall its sublime grander--nothing but the reality can give any idea howwonderful, how magnificent the scene is. If I was to specify any one thingI should give the pre-eminence to the host of parasitical plants. Yourengraving is exactly true, but underrates rather than exaggerates theluxuriance. I never experienced such intense delight. I formerly admiredHumboldt, I now almost adore him; he alone gives any notion of the feelingswhich are raised in the mind on first entering the Tropics. I am nowcollecting fresh-water and land animals; if what was told me in London istrue, viz., that there are no small insects in the collections from theTropics, I tell Entomologists to look out and have their pens ready fordescribing. I have taken as minute (if not more so) as in England,Hydropori, Hygroti, Hydrobii, Pselaphi, Staphylini, Curculio, etc. etc. Itis exceedingly interesting observing the difference of genera and speciesfrom those which I know, it is however much less than I had expected. I amat present red-hot with spiders; they are very interesting, and if I am notmistaken I have already taken some new genera. I shall have a large box tosend very soon to Cambridge, and with that I will mention some more naturalhistory particulars.

The Captain does everything in his power to assist me, and we get on verywell, but I thank my better fortune he has not made me a renegade to Whigprinciples. I would not be a Tory, if it was merely on account of theircold hearts about that scandal to Christian nations--Slavery. I am verygood friends with all the officers.

I have just returned from a walk, and as a specimen, how little the insectsare known. Noterus, according to the 'Dictionary Classique,' containssolely three European species. I in one haul of my net took five distinctspecies; is this not quite extraordinary?...

Tell Professor Sedgwick he does not know how much I am indebted to him forthe Welsh Expedition; it has given me an interest in Geology which I wouldnot give up for any consideration. I do not think I ever spent a moredelightful three weeks than pounding the North-west Mountains. I lookforward to the geology about Monte Video as I hear there are slates there,so I presume in that district I shall find the junctions of the Pampas, andthe enormous granite formation of Brazils. At Bahia the pegmatite andgneiss in beds had the same direction, as observed by Humboldt, prevailingover Columbia, distant 1300 miles--is it not wonderful? Monte Video willbe for a long time my direction. I hope you will write again to me, thereis nobody from whom I like receiving advice so much as from you...Excusethis almost unintelligible letter, and believe me, my dear Henslow, withthe warmest feelings of respect and friendship,

Your letter arrived here when I had given up all hopes of receivinganother, it gave me, therefore, an additional degree of pleasure. At suchan interval of time and space one does learn to feel truly obliged to thosewho do not forget one. The memory when recalling scenes past by, affordsto us EXILES one of the greatest pleasures. Often and often whilstwandering amongst these hills do I think of Barmouth, and, I may add, asoften wish for such a companion. What a contrast does a walk in these twoplaces afford; here abrupt and stony peaks are to the very summit enclosedby luxuriant woods; the whole surface of the country, excepting wherecleared by man, is one impenetrable forest. How different from Wales, withits sloping hills covered with turf, and its open valleys. I was notpreviously aware how intimately what may be called the moral part isconnected with the enjoyment of scenery. I mean such ideas, as the historyof the country, the utility of the produce, and more especially thehappiness of the people living with them. Change the English labourer intoa poor slave, working for another, and you will hardly recognise the sameview. I am sure you will be glad to hear how very well every part (Heavenforefend, except sea-sickness) of the expedition has answered. We havealready seen Teneriffe and the Great Canary; St. Jago where I spent threemost delightful weeks, revelling in the delights of first naturalising atropical volcanic island, and besides other islands, the two celebratedports in the Brazils, viz. Bahia and Rio.

I was in my hammock till we arrived at the Canaries, and I shall neverforget the sublime impression the first view of Teneriffe made on my mind. The first arriving into warm weather was most luxuriously pleasant; theclear blue sky of the Tropics was no common change after those accursedsouth-west gales at Plymouth. About the Line it became weltering hot. Wespent one day at St. Paul's, a little group of rocks about a quarter of amile in circumference, peeping up in the midst of the Atlantic. There wassuch a scene here. Wickham (1st Lieutenant) and I were the only two wholanded with guns and geological hammers, etc. The birds by myriads weretoo close to shoot; we then tried stones, but at last, proh pudor! mygeological hammer was the instrument of death. We soon loaded the boatwith birds and eggs. Whilst we were so engaged, the men in the boat werefairly fighting with the sharks for such magnificent fish as you could notsee in the London market. Our boat would have made a fine subject forSnyders, such a medley of game it contained. We have been here ten weeks,and shall now start for Monte Video, when I look forward to many a gallopover the Pampas. I am ashamed of sending such a scrambling letter, but ifyou were to see the heap of letters on my table you would understand thereason...

I am glad to hear music flourishes so well in Cambridge; but it [is] asbarbarous to talk to me of "celestial concerts" as to a person in Arabia ofcold water. In a voyage of this sort, if one gains many new and greatpleasures, on the other side the loss is not inconsiderable. How shouldyou like to be suddenly debarred from seeing every person and place, whichyou have ever known and loved, for five years? I do assure you I amoccasionally "taken aback" by this reflection; and then for man or ship itis not so easy to right again. Remember me most sincerely to the remnantof most excellent fellows whom I have the good luck to know in Cambridge--Imean Whitley and Watkins. Tell Lowe I am even beneath his contempt. I caneat salt beef and musty biscuits for dinner. See what a fall man may cometo!

My direction for the next year and a half will be Monte Video.

God bless you, my very dear old Herbert. May you always be happy andprosperous is my most cordial wish.

I do not feel very sure you will think a letter from one so far distantwill be worth having; I write therefore on the selfish principle of gettingan answer. In the different countries we visit the entire newness anddifference from England only serves to make more keen the recollection ofits scenes and delights. In consequence the pleasure of thinking of, andhearing from one's former friends, does indeed become great. Recollectthis, and some long winter's evening sit down and send me a long account ofyourself and our friends; both what you have, and what [you] intend doing;otherwise in three or four more years when I return you will be allstrangers to me. Considering how many months have passed, we have not inthe "Beagle" made much way round the world. Hitherto everything has wellrepaid the necessary trouble and loss of comfort. We stayed three weeks atthe Cape de Verds; it was no ordinary pleasure rambling over the plains oflava under a tropical sun, but when I first entered on and beheld theluxuriant vegetation in Brazil, it was realizing the visions in the'Arabian Nights.' The brilliancy of the scenery throws one into a deliriumof delight, and a beetle hunter is not likely soon to awaken from it, whenwhichever way he turns fresh treasures meet his eye. At Rio de Janeirothree months passed away like so many weeks. I made a most delightfulexcursion during this time of 150 miles into the country. I stayed at anestate which is the last of the cleared ground, behind is one vastimpenetrable forest. It is almost impossible to imagine the quietude ofsuch a life. Not a human being within some miles interrupts the solitude. To seat oneself amidst the gloom of such a forest on a decaying trunk, andthen think of home, is a pleasure worth taking some trouble for.

We are at present in a much less interesting country. One single walk overthe undulatory turf plain shows everything which is to be seen. It is notat all unlike Cambridgeshire, only that every hedge, tree and hill must beleveled, and arable land turned into pasture. All South America is in suchan unsettled state that we have not entered one port without some sort ofdisturbance. At Buenos Ayres a shot came whistling over our heads; it is anoise I had never before heard, but I found I had an instinctive knowledgeof what it meant. The other day we landed our men here, and tookpossession, at the request of the inhabitants, of the central fort. Wephilosophers do not bargain for this sort of work, and I hope there will beno more. We sail in the course of a day or two to survey the coast ofPatagonia; as it is entirely unknown, I expect a good deal of interest. But already do I perceive the grievous difference between sailing on theseseas and the Equinoctial ocean. In the "Ladies' Gulf," as the Spaniard'scall it, it is so luxurious to sit on deck and enjoy the coolness of thenight, and admire the new constellations of the South...I wonder when weshall ever meet again; but be it when it may, few things will give megreater pleasure than to see you again, and talk over the long time we havepassed together.

If you were to meet me at present I certainly should be looked at like awild beast, a great grizzly beard and flushing jacket would disfigure anangel. Believe me, my dear Watkins, with the warmest feelings offriendship.

Ever yours,CHARLES DARWIN.

CHARLES DARWIN TO J.S. HENSLOW.April 11, 1833.

My dear Henslow,

We are now running up from the Falkland Islands to the Rio Negro (orColorado). The "Beagle" will proceed to Monte Video; but if it can bemanaged I intend staying at the former place. It is now some months sincewe have been at a civilised port; nearly all this time has been spent inthe most southern part of Tierra del Fuego. It is a detestable place;gales succeed gales with such short intervals that it is difficult to doanything. We were twenty-three days off Cape Horn, and could by no meansget to the westward. The last and final gale before we gave up the attemptwas unusually severe. A sea stove one of the boats, and there was so muchwater on the decks that every place was afloat; nearly all the paper fordrying plants is spoiled, and half of this curious collection.

We at last ran into harbour, and in the boats got to the west by the inlandchannels. As I was one of this party I was very glad of it. With twoboats we went about 300 miles, and thus I had an excellent opportunity ofgeologising and seeing much of the savages. The Fuegians are in a moremiserable state of barbarism than I had expected ever to have seen a humanbeing. In this inclement country they are absolutely naked, and theirtemporary houses are like what children make in summer with boughs oftrees. I do not think any spectacle can be more interesting than the firstsight of man in his primitive wildness. It is an interest which cannotwell be imagined until it is experienced. I shall never forget this whenentering Good Success Bay--the yell with which a party received us. Theywere seated on a rocky point, surrounded by the dark forest of beech; asthey threw their arms wildly round their heads, and their long hairstreaming, they seemed the troubled spirits of another world. The climatein some respects is a curious mixture of severity and mildness; as far asregards the animal kingdom, the former character prevails; I have inconsequence not added much to my collections.

The Geology of this part of Tierra del Fuego was, as indeed every place is,to me very interesting. The country is non-fossiliferous, and a common-place succession of granitic rocks and slates; attempting to make out therelation of cleavage, strata, etc., etc., was my chief amusement. Themineralogy, however, of some of the rocks will, I think, be curious fromtheir resemblance to those of volcanic origin.

...

After leaving Tierra del Fuego we sailed to the Falklands. I forgot tomention the fate of the Fuegians whom we took back to their country. Theyhad become entirely European in their habits and wishes, so much so thatthe younger one had forgotten his own language, and their countrymen paidbut very little attention to them. We built houses for them and plantedgardens, but by the time we return again on our passage round the Horn, Ithink it will be very doubtful how much of their property will be leftunstolen.

...When I am sea-sick and miserable, it is one of my highest consolationsto picture the future when we again shall be pacing together the roadsround Cambridge. That day is a weary long way off. We have another cruiseto make to Tierra del Fuego next summer, and then our voyage round theworld will really commence. Captain Fitz-Roy has purchased a largeschooner of 170 tons. In many respects it will be a great advantage havinga consort--perhaps it may somewhat shorten our cruise, which I mostcordially hope it may. I trust, however, that the Coral Reefs and variousanimals of the Pacific may keep up my resolution. Remember me most kindlyto Mrs. Henslow and all other friends; I am a true lover of Alma Mater andall its inhabitants.

...The following business piece is to my father. Having a servant of myown would be a really great addition to my comfort. For these two reasons: as at present the Captain has appointed one of the men always to be withme, but I do not think it just thus to take a seaman out of the ship; and,secondly, when at sea I am rather badly off for any one to wait on me. Theman is willing to be my servant, and all the expenses would be under 60pounds per annum. I have taught him to shoot and skin birds, so that in mymain object he is very useful. I have now left England nearly a year and ahalf, and I find my expenses are not above 200 pounds per annum; so that,it being hopeless (from time) to write for permission, I have come to theconclusion that you would allow me this expense. But I have not yetresolved to ask the Captain, and the chances are even that he would not bewilling to have an additional man in the ship. I have mentioned thisbecause for a long time I have been thinking about it.

JUNE.

I have just received a bundle more letters. I do not know how to thank youall sufficiently. One from Catherine, February 8th, another from Susan,March 3rd, together with notes from Caroline and from my father; give mybest love to my father. I almost cried for pleasure at receiving it; itwas very kind thinking of writing to me. My letters are both few, short,and stupid in return for all yours; but I always ease my conscience byconsidering the Journal as a long letter. If I can manage it, I will,before doubling the Horn, send the rest. I am quite delighted to find thehide of the Megatherium has given you all some little interest in myemployments. These fragments are not, however, by any means the mostvaluable of the geological relics. I trust and believe that the time spentin this voyage, if thrown away for all other respects, will produce itsfull worth in Natural History; and it appears to me the doing what LITTLEwe can to increase the general stock of knowledge is as respectable anobject of life as one can in any likelihood pursue. It is more the resultof such reflections (as I have already said) than much immediate pleasurewhich now makes me continue the voyage, together with the glorious prospectof the future, when passing the Straits of Magellan, we have in truth theworld before us. Think of the Andes, the luxuriant forest of Guayaquil,the islands of the South Sea, and New South Wales. How many magnificentand characteristic views, how many and curious tribes of men we shall see! What fine opportunities for geology and for studying the infinite host ofliving beings! Is not this a prospect to keep up the most flagging spirit? If I was to throw it away, I don't think I should ever rest quiet in mygrave. I certainly should be a ghost and haunt the British Museum.

How famously the Ministers appear to be going on. I always much enjoypolitical gossip and what you at home think will, etc., etc., take place. I steadily read up the weekly paper, but it is not sufficient to guideone's opinion; and I find it a very painful state not to be as obstinate asa pig in politics. I have watched how steadily the general feeling, asshown at elections, has been rising against Slavery. What a proud thingfor England if she is the first European nation which utterly abolishes it! I was told before leaving England that after living in slave countries allmy opinions would be altered; the only alteration I am aware of is forminga much higher estimate of the negro character. It is impossible to see anegro and not feel kindly towards him; such cheerful, open, honestexpressions and such fine muscular bodies. I never saw any of thediminutive Portuguese, with their murderous countenances, without almostwishing for Brazil to follow the example of Hayti; and, considering theenormous healthy-looking black population, it will be wonderful if, at somefuture day, it does not take place. There is at Rio a man (I know not histitle) who has a large salary to prevent (I believe) the landing of slaves;he lives at Botofogo, and yet that was the bay where, during my residence,the greater number of smuggled slaves were landed. Some of the Anti-Slavery people ought to question about his office; it was the subject ofconversation at Rio amongst the lower English...

CHARLES DARWIN TO J.M. HERBERT.Maldonado, Rio Plata, June 2, 1833.

My dear Herbert,

I have been confined for the last three days to a miserable dark room, inan old Spanish house, from the torrents of rain; I am not, therefore, invery good trim for writing; but, defying the blue devils, I will send you afew lines, if it is merely to thank you very sincerely for writing to me. I received your letter, dated December 1st, a short time since. We are nowpassing part of the winter in the Rio Plata, after having had a hardsummer's work to the south. Tierra del Fuego is indeed a miserable place;the ceaseless fury of the gales is quite tremendous. One evening we sawold Cape Horn, and three weeks afterwards we were only thirty miles towindward of it. It is a grand spectacle to see all nature thus raging; butHeaven knows every one in the "Beagle" has seen enough in this one summerto last them their natural lives.

The first place we landed at was Good Success Bay. It was here Banks andSolander met such disasters on ascending one of the mountains. The weatherwas tolerably fine, and I enjoyed some walks in a wild country, like thatbehind Barmouth. The valleys are impenetrable from the entangled woods,but the higher parts, near the limits of perpetual snow, are bare. Fromsome of these hills the scenery, from its savage, solitary character, wasmost sublime. The only inhabitant of these heights is the guanaco, andwith its shrill neighing it often breaks the stillness. The consciousnessthat no European foot had ever trod much of this ground added to thedelight of these rambles. How often and how vividly have many of the hoursspent at Barmouth come before my mind! I look back to that time with nocommon pleasure; at this moment I can see you seated on the hill behind theinn, almost as plainly as if you were really there. It is necessary to beseparated from all which one has been accustomed to, to know how properlyto treasure up such recollections, and at this distance, I may add, howproperly to esteem such as yourself, my dear old Herbert. I wonder when Ishall ever see you again. I hope it may be, as you say, surrounded withheaps of parchment; but then there must be, sooner or later, a dear littlelady to take care of you and your house. Such a delightful vision makes mequite envious. This is a curious life for a regular shore-going personsuch as myself; the worst part of it is its extreme length. There iscertainly a great deal of high enjoyment, and on the contrary a tolerableshare of vexation of spirit. Everything, however, shall bend to thepleasure of grubbing up old bones, and captivating new animals. By theway, you rank my Natural History labours far too high. I am nothing morethan a lions' provider: I do not feel at all sure that they will not growland finally destroy me.

It does one's heart good to hear how things are going on in England. Hurrah for the honest Whigs! I trust they will soon attack that monstrousstain on our boasted liberty, Colonial Slavery. I have seen enough ofSlavery and the dispositions of the negroes, to be thoroughly disgustedwith the lies and nonsense one hears on the subject in England. Thank God,the cold-hearted Tories, who, as J. Mackintosh used to say, have noenthusiasm, except against enthusiasm, have for the present run their race. I am sorry, by your letter, to hear you have not been well, and that youpartly attribute it to want of exercise. I wish you were here amongst thegreen plains; we would take walks which would rival the Dolgelly ones, andyou should tell stories, which I would believe, even to a CUBIC FATHOM OFPUDDING. Instead I must take my solitary ramble, think of Cambridge days,and pick up snakes, beetles and toads. Excuse this short letter (you knowI never studied 'The Complete Letter-writer'), and believe me, my dearHerbert,

Your affectionate friend,CHARLES DARWIN.

CHARLES DARWIN TO J.S. HENSLOW.East Falkland Island, March, 1834.

...I am quite charmed with Geology, but like the wise animal between twobundles of hay, I do not know which to like the best; the old crystallinegroup of rocks, or the softer and fossiliferous beds. When puzzling aboutstratifications, etc., I feel inclined to cry "a fig for your big oysters,and your bigger megatheriums." But then when digging out some fine bones,I wonder how any man can tire his arms with hammering granite. By the wayI have not one clear idea about cleavage, stratification, lines ofupheaval. I have no books which tell me much, and what they do I cannotapply to what I see. In consequence I draw my own conclusions, and mostgloriously ridiculous ones they are, I sometimes fancy...Can you throw anylight into my mind by telling me what relation cleavage and planes ofdeposition bear to each other?

And now for my second SECTION, Zoology. I have chiefly been employed inpreparing myself for the South Sea by examining the polypi of the smallerCorallines in these latitudes. Many in themselves are very curious, and Ithink are quite undescribed; there was one appalling one, allied to aFlustra, which I dare say I mentioned having found to the northward, wherethe cells have a movable organ (like a vulture's head, with a dilatablebeak), fixed on the edge. But what is of more general interest is theunquestionable (as it appears to me) existence of another species ofostrich, besides the Struthio rhea. All the Gauchos and Indians state itis the case, and I place the greatest faith in their observations. I havethe head, neck, piece of skin, feathers, and legs of one. The differencesare chiefly in the colour of the feathers and scales on legs, beingfeathered below the knees, nidification, and geographical distribution. Somuch for what I have lately done; the prospect before me is full ofsunshine, fine weather, glorious scenery, the geology of the Andes, plainsabounding with organic remains (which perhaps I may have the good luck tocatch in the very act of moving), and lastly, an ocean, its shoresabounding with life, so that, if nothing unforeseen happens, I will stickto the voyage, although for what I can see this may last till we return afine set of white-headed old gentlemen. I have to thank you most cordiallyfor sending me the books. I am now reading the Oxford 'Report' (The secondmeeting of the British Association was held at Oxford in 1832, thefollowing year it was at Cambridge.); the whole account of your proceedingsis most glorious; you remaining in England cannot well imagine howexcessively interesting I find the reports. I am sure from my ownthrilling sensations when reading them, that they cannot fail to have anexcellent effect upon all those residing in distant colonies, and who havelittle opportunity of seeing the periodicals. My hammer has flown withredoubled force on the devoted blocks; as I thought over the eloquence ofthe Cambridge President, I hit harder and harder blows. I hope to give myarms strength for the Cordilleras. You will send me through Capt. Beauforta copy of the Cambridge 'Report.'

I have forgotten to mention that for some time past, and for the future, Iwill put a pencil cross on the pill-boxes containing insects, as thesealone will require being kept particularly dry; it may perhaps save yousome trouble. When this letter will go I do not know, as this little seatof discord has lately been embroiled by a dreadful scene of murder, and atpresent there are more prisoners than inhabitants. If a merchant vessel ischartered to take them to Rio, I will send some specimens (especially myfew plants and seeds). Remember me to all my Cambridge friends. I loveand treasure up every recollection of dear old Cambridge. I am muchobliged to you for putting my name down to poor Ramsay's monument; I neverthink of him without the warmest admiration. Farewell, my dear Henslow.

Believe me your most obliged and affectionate friend,CHARLES DARWIN.

CHARLES DARWIN TO MISS C. DARWIN.East Falkland Island, April 6, 1834.

My dear Catherine,

When this letter will reach you I know not, but probably some man-of-warwill call here before, in the common course of events, I should haveanother opportunity of writing.

...

After visiting some of the southern islands, we beat up through themagnificent scenery of the Beagle Channel to Jemmy Button's country. (Jemmy Button, York Minster, and Fuegia Basket, were natives of Tierra delFuego, brought to England by Captain Fitz-Roy in his former voyage, andrestored to their country by him in 1832.) We could hardly recognise poorJemmy. Instead of the clean, well-dressed stout lad we left him, we foundhim a naked, thin, squalid savage. York and Fuegia had moved to their owncountry some months ago, the former having stolen all Jemmy's clothes. Nowhe had nothing except a bit of blanket round his waist. Poor Jemmy wasvery glad to see us, and, with his usual good feeling, brought severalpresents (otter-skins, which are most valuable to themselves) for his oldfriends. The Captain offered to take him to England, but this, to oursurprise, he at once refused. In the evening his young wife came alongsideand showed us the reason. He was quite contented. Last year, in theheight of his indignation, he said "his country people no sabe nothing--damned fools"--now they were very good people, with TOO much to eat, andall the luxuries of life. Jemmy and his wife paddled away in their canoeloaded with presents, and very happy. The most curious thing is, thatJemmy, instead of recovering his own language, has taught all his friends alittle English. "J. Button's canoe" and "Jemmy's wife come," "Give meknife," etc., was said by several of them.

We then bore away for this island--this little miserable seat of discord. We found that the Gauchos, under pretence of a revolution, had murdered andplundered all the Englishmen whom they could catch, and some of their owncountrymen. All the economy at home makes the foreign movements of Englandmost contemptible. How different from old Spain. Here we, dog-in-the-manger fashion, seize an island, and leave to protect it a Union Jack; thepossessor has, of course, been murdered; we now send a lieutenant with foursailors, without authority or instructions. A man-of-war, however,ventured to leave a party of marines, and by their assistance, and thetreachery of some of the party, the murderers have all been taken, therebeing now as many prisoners as inhabitants. This island must some daybecome a very important halting-place in the most turbulent sea in theworld. It is mid-way between Australia and the South Sea to England;between Chili, Peru, etc., and the Rio Plata and the Rio de Janeiro. Thereare fine harbours, plenty of fresh water, and good beef. It woulddoubtless produce the coarser vegetables. In other respects it is awretched place. A little time since, I rode across the island, andreturned in four days. My excursion would have been longer, but during thewhole time it blew a gale of wind, with hail and snow. There is nofirewood bigger than heath, and the whole country is, more or less anelastic peat-bog. Sleeping out at night was too miserable work to endureit for all the rocks in South America.

We shall leave this scene of iniquity in two or three days, and go to theRio de la Sta. Cruz. One of the objects is to look at the ship's bottom. We struck heavily on an unknown rock off Port Desire, and some of hercopper is torn off. After this is repaired the Captain has a gloriousscheme; it is to go to the very head of this river, that is probably to theAndes. It is quite unknown; the Indians tell us it is two or three hundredyards broad, and horses can nowhere ford it. I cannot imagine anythingmore interesting. Our plans then are to go to Fort Famine, and there wemeet the "Adventure", who is employed in making the Chart of the Falklands. This will be in the middle of winter, so I shall see Tierra del Fuego inher white drapery. We leave the straits to enter the Pacific by theBarbara Channel, one very little known, and which passes close to the footof Mount Sarmiento (the highest mountain in the south, excepting Mt.!!Darwin!!). We then shall scud away for Concepcion in Chili. I believe theship must once again steer southward, but if any one catches me thereagain, I will give him leave to hang me up as a scarecrow for all futurenaturalists. I long to be at work in the Cordilleras, the geology of thisside, which I understand pretty well is so intimately connected withperiods of violence in that great chain of mountains. The future is,indeed, to me a brilliant prospect. You say its very brilliancy frightensyou; but really I am very careful; I may mention as a proof, in all myrambles I have never had any one accident or scrape...Continue in your goodcustom of writing plenty of gossip; I much like hearing all about allthings. Remember me most kindly to Uncle Jos, and to all the Wedgwoods. Tell Charlotte (their married names sound downright unnatural) I shouldlike to have written to her, to have told her how well everything is goingon; but it would only have been a transcript of this letter, and I have ahost of animals at this minute surrounding me which all require embalmingand numbering. I have not forgotten the comfort I received that day atMaer, when my mind was like a swinging pendulum. Give my best love to myfather. I hope he will forgive all my extravagance, but not as aChristian, for then I suppose he would send me no more money.

Good-bye, dear, to you, and all your goodly sisterhood.

Your affectionate brother,CHAS. DARWIN.

My love to Nancy (His old nurse.); tell her, if she was now to see me withmy great beard, she would think I was some worthy Solomon, come to sell thetrinkets.

CHARLES DARWIN TO C. WHITLEY.Valparaiso, July 23, 1834.

My dear Whitley,

I have long intended writing, just to put you in mind that there is acertain hunter of beetles, and pounder of rocks still in existence. Why Ihave not done so before I know not, but it will serve me right if you havequite forgotten me. It is a very long time since I have heard anyCambridge news; I neither know where you are living or what you are doing. I saw your name down as one of the indefatigable guardians of the eighteenhundred philosophers. I was delighted to see this, for when we last leftCambridge you were at sad variance with poor science; you seemed to thinkher a public prostitute working for popularity. If your opinions are thesame as formerly, you would agree most admirably with Captain Fitz-Roy,--the object of his most devout abhorrence is one of the d--d scientificWhigs. As captains of men-of-war are the greatest men going, far greaterthan kings or schoolmasters, I am obliged to tell him everything in my ownfavour. I have often said I once had a very good friend, an out-and-outTory, and we managed to get on very well together. But he is very muchinclined to doubt if ever I really was so much honoured; at present we hearscarcely anything about politics; this saves a great deal of trouble, forwe all stick to our former opinions rather more obstinately than before,and can give rather fewer reasons for doing so.

I do hope you will write to me: ('H.M.S. "Beagle", S. American Station'will find me). I should much like to hear in what state you are both inbody and mind. ?Quien Sabe? as the people say here (and God knows theywell may, for they do know little enough), if you are not a married man,and may be nursing, as Miss Austen says, little olive branches, littlepledges of mutual affection. Eheu! Eheu! this puts me in mind of formervisions of glimpses into futurity, where I fancied I saw retirement, greencottages, and white petticoats. What will become of me hereafter I knownot; I feel like a ruined man, who does not see or care how to extricatehimself. That this voyage must come to a conclusion my reason tells me,but otherwise I see no end to it. It is impossible not bitterly to regretthe friends and other sources of pleasure one leaves behind in England; inplace of it there is much solid enjoyment, some present, but more inanticipation, when the ideas gained during the voyage can be compared tofresh ones. I find in Geology a never-failing interest, as it has beenremarked, it creates the same grand ideas respecting this world whichAstronomy does for the universe. We have seen much fine scenery; that ofthe Tropics in its glory and luxuriance exceeds even the language ofHumboldt to describe. A Persian writer could alone do justice to it, andif he succeeded he would in England be called the 'Grandfather of allliars.'"

But I have seen nothing which more completely astonished me than the firstsight of a savage. It was a naked Fuegian, his long hair blowing about,his face besmeared with paint. There is in their countenances anexpression which I believe, to those who have not seen it, must beinconceivably wild. Standing on a rock he uttered tones and madegesticulations, than which the cries of domestic animals are far moreintelligible.

When I return to England, you must take me in hand with respect to the finearts. I yet recollect there was a man called Raffaelle Sanctus. Howdelightful it will be once again to see, in the Fitzwilliam, Titian'sVenus. How much more than delightful to go to some good concert or fineopera. These recollections will not do. I shall not be able to-morrow topick out the entrails of some small animal with half my usual gusto. Praytell me some news about Cameron, Watkins, Marindin, the two Thompsons ofTrinity, Lowe, Heaviside, Matthew. Herbert I have heard from. How isHenslow getting on? and all other good friends of dear Cambridge? Oftenand often do I think over those past hours, so many of which have beenpassed in your company. Such can never return, but their recollection cannever die away.

My last letter was rather a gloomy one, for I was not very well when Iwrote it. Now everything is as bright as sunshine. I am quite well againafter being a second time in bed for a fortnight. Captain Fitz-Roy verygenerously has delayed the ship ten days on my account, and without at thetime telling me for what reason.

We have had some strange proceedings on board the "Beagle", but which haveended most capitally for all hands. Captain Fitz-Roy has for the last twomonths been working EXTREMELY hard, and at the same time constantly annoyedby interruptions from officers of other ships; the selling the schooner andits consequences were very vexatious; the cold manner the Admiralty (solelyI believe because he is a Tory) have treated him, and a thousand other,etc. etc.'s, has made him very thin and unwell. This was accompanied by amorbid depression of spirits, and a loss of all decision and resolution...All that Bynoe [the Surgeon] could say, that it was merely the effect ofbodily health and exhaustion after such application, would not do; heinvalided, and Wickham was appointed to the command. By the instructionsWickham could only finish the survey of the southern part, and would thenhave been obliged to return direct to England. The grief on board the"Beagle" about the Captain's decision was universal and deeply felt; onegreat source of his annoyment was the feeling it impossible to fulfil thewhole instructions; from his state of mind it never occurred to him thatthe very instructions ordered him to do as much of the West coast AS HE HASTIME FOR, and then proceed across the Pacific.

Wickham (very disinterestedly giving up his own promotion) urged this moststrongly, stated that when he took the command nothing should induce him togo to Tierra del Fuego again; and then asked the Captain what would begained by his resignation? why not do the more useful part, and return ascommanded by the Pacific. The Captain at last, to every one's joy,consented, and the resignation was withdrawn.

Hurrah! hurrah! it is fixed the "Beagle" shall not go one mile south ofCape Tres Montes (about 200 miles south of Chiloe), and from that point toValparaiso will be finished in about five months. We shall examine theChonos Archipelago, entirely unknown, and the curious inland sea behindChiloe. For me it is glorious. Cape Tres Montes is the most southernpoint where there is much geological interest, as there the modern bedsend. The Captain then talks of crossing the Pacific; but I think we shallpersuade him to finish the Coast of Peru, where the climate is delightful,the country hideously sterile, but abounding with the highest interest to ageologist. For the first time since leaving England I now see a clear andnot so distant prospect of returning to you all: crossing the Pacific, andfrom Sydney home, will not take much time.

As soon as the Captain invalided I at once determined to leave the"Beagle", but it was quite absurd what a revolution in five minutes waseffected in all my feelings. I have long been grieved and most sorry atthe interminable length of the voyage (although I never would have quittedit); but the minute it was all over, I could not make up my mind to return. I could not give up all the geological castles in the air which I had beenbuilding up for the last two years. One whole night I tried to think overthe pleasure of seeing Shrewsbury again, but the barren plains of Perugained the day. I made the following scheme (I know you will abuse me, andperhaps if I had put it in execution, my father would have sent a mandamusafter me); it was to examine the Cordilleras of Chili during this summer,and in winter go from port to port on the coast of Peru to Lima, returningthis time next year to Valparaiso, cross the Cordilleras to Buenos Ayres,and take ship to England. Would not this have been a fine excursion, andin sixteen months I should have been with you all? To have endured Tierradel Fuego and not seen the Pacific would have been miserable...

I go on board to-morrow; I have been for the last six weeks in Corfield'shouse. You cannot imagine what a kind friend I have found him. He isuniversally liked, and respected by the natives and foreigners. SeveralChileno Signoritas are very obligingly anxious to become the signoras ofthis house. Tell my father I have kept my promise of being extravagant inChili. I have drawn a bill of 100 pounds (had it not better be notified toMessrs. Robarts & Co.); 50 pounds goes to the Captain for the ensuing year,and 30 pounds I take to sea for the small ports; so that bona fide I havenot spent 180 pounds during these last four months. I hope not to drawanother bill for six months. All the foregoing particulars were onlysettled yesterday. It has done me more good than a pint of medicine, and Ihave not been so happy for the last year. If it had not been for myillness, these four months in Chili would have been very pleasant. I havehad ill luck, however, in only one little earthquake having happened. Iwas lying in bed when there was a party at dinner in the house; on a suddenI heard such a hubbub in the dining-room; without a word being spoken, itwas devil take the hindmost who should get out first; at the same moment Ifelt my bed SLIGHTLY vibrate in a lateral direction. The party were oldstagers, and heard the noise which always precedes a shock; and no oldstager looks at an earthquake with philosophical eyes...

Good-bye to you all; you will not have another letter for some time.

My dear Catherine,Yours affectionately,CHAS. DARWIN.

My best love to my father, and all of you. Love to Nancy.

CHARLES DARWIN TO MISS S. DARWIN.Valparaiso, April 23, 1835.

My dear Susan,

I received, a few days since, your letter of November; the three letterswhich I before mentioned are yet missing, but I do not doubt they will cometo life. I returned a week ago from my excursion across the Andes toMendoza. Since leaving England I have never made so successful a journey;it has, however, been very expensive. I am sure my father would not regretit, if he could know how deeply I have enjoyed it: it was something morethan enjoyment; I cannot express the delight which I felt at such a famouswinding-up of all my geology in South America. I literally could hardlysleep at nights for thinking over my day's work. The scenery was so new,and so majestic; everything at an elevation of 12,000 feet bears sodifferent an aspect from that in a lower country. I have seen many viewsmore beautiful, but none with so strongly marked a character. To ageologist, also, there are such manifest proofs of excessive violence; thestrata of the highest pinnacles are tossed about like the crust of a brokenpie.

I crossed by the Portillo Pass, which at this time of the year is apt to bedangerous, so could not afford to delay there. After staying a day in thestupid town of Mendoza, I began my return by Uspallate, which I did veryleisurely. My whole trip only took up twenty-two days. I travelled with,for me, uncommon comfort, as I carried a BED! My party consisted of twoPeons and ten mules, two of which were with baggage, or rather food, incase of being snowed up. Everything, however, favoured me; not even aspeck of this year's snow had fallen on the road. I do not suppose any ofyou can be much interested in geological details, but I will just mentionmy principal results:--Besides understanding to a certain extent thedescription and manner of the force which has elevated this great line ofmountains, I can clearly demonstrate that one part of the double line is ofan age long posterior to the other. In the more ancient line, which is thetrue chain of the Andes, I can describe the sort and order of the rockswhich compose it. These are chiefly remarkable by containing a bed ofgypsum nearly 2000 feet thick--a quantity of this substance I should thinkunparalleled in the world. What is of much greater consequence, I haveprocured fossil shells (from an elevation of 12,000 feet). I think anexamination of these will give an approximate age to these mountains, ascompared to the strata of Europe. In the other line of the Cordillerasthere is a strong presumption (in my own mind, conviction) that theenormous mass of mountains, the peaks of which rise to 13,000 and 14,000feet, are so very modern as to be contemporaneous with the plains ofPatagonia (or about with the UPPER strata of the Isle of Wight). If thisresult shall be considered as proved (The importance of these results hasbeen fully recognised by geologists.), it is a very important fact in thetheory of the formation of the world; because, if such wonderful changeshave taken place so recently in the crust of the globe, there can be noreason for supposing former epochs of excessive violence. These modernstrata are very remarkable by being threaded with metallic veins of silver,gold, copper, etc.; hitherto these have been considered as appertaining toolder formations. In these same beds, and close to a goldmine, I found aclump of petrified trees, standing up right, with layers of fine sandstonedeposited round them, bearing the impression of their bark. These treesare covered by other sandstones and streams of lava to the thickness ofseveral thousand feet. These rocks have been deposited beneath water; yetit is clear the spot where the trees grew must once have been above thelevel of the sea, so that it is certain the land must have been depressedby at least as many thousand feet as the superincumbent subaqueous depositsare thick. But I am afraid you will tell me I am prosy with my geologicaldescriptions and theories...

Your account of Erasmus' visit to Cambridge has made me long to be backthere. I cannot fancy anything more delightful than his Sunday round ofKing's, Trinity, and those talking giants, Whewell and Sedgwick; I hopeyour musical tastes continue in due force. I shall be ravenous for thepianoforte...

I have not quite determined whether I will sleep at the 'Lion' the firstnight when I arrive per 'Wonder,' or disturb you all in the dead of night;everything short of that is absolutely planned. Everything aboutShrewsbury is growing in my mind bigger and more beautiful; I am certainthe acacia and copper beech are two superb trees; I shall know every bush,and I will trouble you young ladies, when each of you cut down your tree,to spare a few. As for the view behind the house, I have seen nothing likeit. It is the same with North Wales; Snowdon, to my mind, looks muchhigher and much more beautiful than any peak in the Cordilleras. So youwill say, with my benighted faculties, it is time to return, and so it is,and I long to be with you. Whatever the trees are, I know what I shallfind all you. I am writing nonsense, so farewell. My most affectionatelove to all, and I pray forgiveness from my father.

Yours most affectionately,CHARLES DARWIN.

CHARLES DARWIN TO W.D. FOX.Lima, July, 1835.

My dear Fox,

I have lately received two of your letters, one dated June and the otherNovember, 1834 (they reached me, however, in an inverted order). I wasvery glad to receive a history of this most important year in your life. Previously I had only heard the plain fact that you were married. You area true Christian and return good for evil, to send two such letters to sobad a correspondent as I have been. God bless you for writing so kindlyand affectionately; if it is a pleasure to have friends in England, it isdoubly so to think and know that one is not forgotten because absent. Thisvoyage is terribly long. I do so earnestly desire to return, yet I darehardly look forward to the future, for I do not know what will become ofme. Your situation is above envy: I do not venture even to frame suchhappy visions. To a person fit to take the office, the life of a clergymanis a type of all that is respectable and happy. You tempt me by talking ofyour fireside, whereas it is a sort of scene I never ought to think about. I saw the other day a vessel sail for England; it was quite dangerous toknow how easily I might turn deserter. As for an English lady, I havealmost forgotten what she is--something very angelic and good. As for thewomen in these countries, they wear caps and petticoats, and a very fewhave pretty faces, and then all is said. But if we are not wrecked on someunlucky reef, I will sit by that same fireside in Vale Cottage and tellsome of the wonderful stories, which you seem to anticipate and, I presume,are not very ready to believe. Gracias a dios, the prospect of such timesis rather shorter than formerly.

>From this most wretched 'City of the Kings' we sail in a fortnight, fromthence to Guayaquil, Galapagos, Marquesas, Society Islands, etc., etc. Ilook forward to the Galapagos with more interest than any other part of thevoyage. They abound with active volcanoes, and, I should hope, containTertiary strata. I am glad to hear you have some thoughts of beginningGeology. I hope you will; there is so much larger a field for thought thanin the other branches of Natural History. I am become a zealous discipleof Mr. Lyell's views, as known in his admirable book. Geologising in SouthAmerica, I am tempted to carry parts to a greater extent even than he does. Geology is a capital science to begin, as it requires nothing but a littlereading, thinking, and hammering. I have a considerable body of notestogether; but it is a constant subject of perplexity to me, whether theyare of sufficient value for all the time I have spent about them, orwhether animals would not have been of more certain value.

I shall indeed be glad once again to see you and tell you how grateful Ifeel for your steady friendship. God bless you, my very dear Fox.

Believe me,Yours affectionately,CHAS. DARWIN.

CHARLES DARWIN TO J.S. HENSLOW.Sydney, January, 1836.

My dear Henslow,

This is the last opportunity of communicating with you before that joyfulday when I shall reach Cambridge. I have very little to say: but I mustwrite if it is only to express my joy that the last year is concluded, andthat the present one, in which the "Beagle" will return, is glidingonwards. We have all been disappointed here in not finding even a singleletter; we are, indeed, rather before our expected time, otherwise, I daresay, I should have seen your handwriting. I must feed upon the future, andit is beyond bounds delightful to feel the certainty that within eightmonths I shall be residing once again most quietly in Cambridge. Certainly, I never was intended for a traveller; my thoughts are alwaysrambling over past or future scenes; I cannot enjoy the present happinessfor anticipating the future, which is about as foolish as the dog whodropped the real bone for its shadow.

...

In our passage across the Pacific we only touched at Tahiti and NewZealand; at neither of these places or at sea had I much opportunity ofworking. Tahiti is a most charming spot. Everything which formernavigators have written is true. 'A new Cytheraea has risen from theocean.' Delicious scenery, climate, manners of the people are all inharmony. It is, moreover, admirable to behold what the missionaries bothhere and at New Zealand have effected. I firmly believe they are good menworking for the sake of a good cause. I much suspect that those who haveabused or sneered at the missionaries have generally been such as were notvery anxious to find the natives moral and intelligent beings. During theremainder of our voyage we shall only visit places generally acknowledgedas civilised, and nearly all under the British flag. These will be a poorfield for Natural History, and without it I have lately discovered that thepleasure of seeing new places is as nothing. I must return to my oldresource and think of the future, but that I may not become more prosy, Iwill say farewell till the day arrives, when I shall see my Master inNatural History, and can tell him how grateful I feel for his kindness andfriendship.

Believe me, dear Henslow,Ever yours, most faithfully,CHAS. DARWIN.

CHARLES DARWIN TO MISS S. DARWIN.Bahia, Brazil, August 4 [1836].

My dear Susan,

I will just write a few lines to explain the cause of this letter beingdated on the coast of South America. Some singular disagreements in thelongitudes made Captain Fitz-Roy anxious to complete the circle in thesouthern hemisphere, and then retrace our steps by our first line toEngland. This zigzag manner of proceeding is very grievous; it has put thefinishing stroke to my feelings. I loathe, I abhor the sea and all shipswhich sail on it. But I yet believe we shall reach England in the latterhalf of October. At Ascension I received Catherine's letter of October,and yours of November; the letter at the Cape was of a later date, butletters of all sorts are inestimable treasures, and I thank you both forthem. The desert, volcanic rocks, and wild sea of Ascension, as soon as Iknew there was news from home, suddenly wore a pleasing aspect, and I setto work with a good-will at my old work of Geology. You would be surprisedto know how entirely the pleasure in arriving at a new place depends onletters. We only stayed four days at Ascension, and then made a very goodpassage to Bahia.

I little thought to have put my foot on South American coast again. It hasbeen almost painful to find how much good enthusiasm has been evaporatedduring the last four years. I can now walk soberly through a Brazilianforest; not but what it is exquisitely beautiful, but now, instead ofseeking for splendid contrasts, I compare the stately mango trees with thehorse-chestnuts of England. Although this zigzag has lost us at least afortnight, in some respects I am glad of it. I think I shall be able tocarry away one vivid picture of inter-tropical scenery. We go from henceto the Cape de Verds; that is, if the winds or the Equatorial calms willallow us. I have some faint hopes that a steady foul wind might induce theCaptain to proceed direct to the Azores. For which most untoward event Iheartily pray.

Both your letters were full of good news; especially the expressions whichyou tell me Professor Sedgwick used about my collections. I confess theyare deeply gratifying--I trust one part at least will turn out true, andthat I shall act as I now think--as a man who dares to waste one hour oftime has not discovered the value of life. Professor Sedgwick mentioningmy name at all gives me hopes that he will assist me with his advice, ofwhich, in my geological questions, I stand much in need. It is useless totell you from the shameful state of this scribble that I am writing againsttime, having been out all morning, and now there are some strangers onboard to whom I must go down and talk civility. Moreover, as this lettergoes by a foreign ship, it is doubtful whether it will ever arrive. Farewell, my very dear Susan and all of you. Good-bye.

C. DARWIN.

CHARLES DARWIN TO J.S. HENSLOW.St. Helena, July 9, 1836.

My dear Henslow,

I am going to ask you to do me a favour. I am very anxious to belong tothe Geological Society. I do not know, but I suppose it is necessary to beproposed some time before being ballotted for; if such is the case, wouldyou be good enough to take the proper preparatory steps? ProfessorSedgwick very kindly offered to propose me before leaving England, if heshould happen to be in London. I dare say he would yet do so.

I have very little to write about. We have neither seen, done, or heard ofanything particular for a long time past; and indeed if at present thewonders of another planet could be displayed before us, I believe we shouldunanimously exclaim, what a consummate plague. No schoolboys ever sung thehalf sentimental and half jovial strain of 'dulce domum' with more fervour,than we all feel inclined to do. But the whole subject of 'dulce domum,'and the delight of seeing one's friends, is most dangerous, it mustinfallibly make one very prosy or very boisterous. Oh, the degree to whichI long to be once again living quietly with not one single novel objectnear me! No one can imagine it till he has been whirled round the worldduring five long years in a ten-gun-brig. I am at present living in asmall house (amongst the clouds) in the centre of the island, and withinstone's throw of Napoleon's tomb. It is blowing a gale of wind with heavyrain and wretchedly cold; if Napoleon's ghost haunts his dreary place ofconfinement, this would be a most excellent night for such wanderingspirits. If the weather chooses to permit me, I hope to see a little ofthe Geology (so often partially described) of the island. I suspect thatdifferently from most volcanic islands its structure is rather complicated. It seems strange that this little centre of a distinct creation should, asis asserted, bear marks of recent elevation.

The "Beagle" proceeds from this place to Ascension, then to the Cape deVerds (what miserable places!) to the Azores to Plymouth, and then to home.That most glorious of all days in my life will not, however, arrive tillthe middle of October. Some time in that month you will see me atCambridge, where I must directly come to report myself to you, as my firstLord of the Admiralty. At the Cape of Good Hope we all on board suffered abitter disappointment in missing nine months' letters, which are chasing usfrom one side of the globe to the other. I dare say amongst them there wasa letter from you; it is long since I have seen your handwriting, but Ishall soon see you yourself, which is far better. As I am your pupil, youare bound to undertake the task of criticising and scolding me for all thethings ill done and not done at all, which I fear I shall need much; but Ihope for the best, and I am sure I have a good if not too easy taskmaster.

At the Cape Captain Fitz-Roy and myself enjoyed a memorable piece of goodfortune in meeting Sir J. Herschel. We dined at his house and saw him afew times besides. He was exceedingly good natured, but his manners atfirst appeared to me rather awful. He is living in a very comfortablecountry house, surrounded by fir and oak trees, which alone in so open acountry, give a most charming air of seclusion and comfort. He appears tofind time for everything; he showed us a pretty garden full of Cape bulbsof his own collecting, and I afterwards understood that everything was thework of his own hands...I am very stupid, and I have nothing more to say;the wind is whistling so mournfully over the bleak hills, that I shall goto bed and dream of England.

I am sure you will congratulate me on the delight of once again being home. The "Beagle" arrived at Falmouth on Sunday evening, and I reachedShrewsbury yesterday morning. I am exceedingly anxious to see you, and asit will be necessary in four or five days to return to London to get mygoods and chattels out of the "Beagle", it appears to me my best plan topass through Cambridge. I want your advice on many points; indeed I am inthe clouds, and neither know what to do or where to go. My chief puzzle isabout the geological specimens--who will have the charity to help me indescribing their mineralogical nature? Will you be kind enough to write tome one line by RETURN OF POST, saying whether you are now at Cambridge? Iam doubtful till I hear from Captain Fitz-Roy whether I shall not beobliged to start before the answer can arrive, but pray try the chance. Mydear Henslow, I do long to see you; you have been the kindest friend to methat ever man possessed. I can write no more, for I am giddy with joy andconfusion.

I arrived here yesterday morning at breakfast time, and, thank God, foundall my dear good sisters and father quite well. My father appears morecheerful and very little older than when I left. My sisters assure me I donot look the least different, and I am able to return the compliment. Indeed, all England appears changed excepting the good old town ofShrewsbury and its inhabitants, which, for all I can see to the contrary,may go on as they now are to Doomsday. I wish with all my heart I waswriting to you amongst your friends instead of at that horrid Plymouth. But the day will soon come, and you will be as happy as I now am. I doassure you I am a very great man at home; the five years' voyage hascertainly raised me a hundred per cent. I fear such greatness mustexperience a fall.

I am thoroughly ashamed of myself in what a dead-and-half-alive state Ispent the few last days on board; my only excuse is that certainly I wasnot quite well. The first day in the mail tired me, but as I drew nearerto Shrewsbury everything looked more beautiful and cheerful. In passingGloucestershire and Worcestershire I wished much for you to admire thefields, woods, and orchards. The stupid people on the coach did not seemto think the fields one bit greener than usual; but I am sure we shouldhave thoroughly agreed that the wide world does not contain so happy aprospect as the rich cultivated land of England.